


Vulnerability

by ClockworkDinosaur



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Sadstuck, Scars, Self-Harm, projecting my issues onto a fictional character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkDinosaur/pseuds/ClockworkDinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't a good night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling pretty Bad™ last night so I wrote this at 3am and it turned out pretty okay so I'm posting it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Excuse any blatant issues with canon

Those who knew didn't ask.

When Dave's sleeves inched up past the wrists as he stretched, John looked away quickly and hoped Dave didn't notice. He did, of course. After years of hiding what he had done it was hard not to notice his own fuck up. To Dave's relief, John never said anything about it.

Rose was the closest to saying anything. When she walked in on Dave half-asleep and shirtless in the heat, the thick pink and white scars that latticed his arms and the sides of his torso in full view before Dave could cover himself with the nearby sheet, her mouth opened and closed before she merely backed out of the room with a pained expression. Dave didn't make eye contact with her for a week.

Karkat didn't know.

It was months into their relationship, a relationship that had caught both of them both pleasantly and terrifyingly off guard, before Dave and Karkat were used to casual contact. Once Dave had relaxed his boundaries enough and Karkat calmed his rage at falling for the “the most insufferable human on the entire goddamn meteor” (a phase he used affectionately later on), they often held hands, leaned on each other, wrapped their arm around the other's shoulder.

Neither of them were used to physical affection, but once they had it they could never get enough. They turned to each other for comfort, and Karkat stumbled into Dave's room in the middle of the night needing comfort badly.

Dave was nearly asleep when he felt the edge of his bed dip. His crimson eyes flew open to see Karkat, his usually firey expression replaced with one of sadness. Dave pulled the thin sheet close, pressing his bare arms to his chest as he stared at Karkat.

“Are you okay?” Dave asked, his voice a ragged whisper.

“No, I'm fucking not okay,” Karkat said, his tone flat. “I can't sleep with all this bullshit happening, I can't shut off my damn think-pan and I just-” he cut himself off, angrily swiping pale red tears from his eyes. “I don't know. Fuck it all, I just don't want to be alone right now.”

Dave nodded hesitantly, carefully scooting to the side and letting Karkat rest his nubby-horned head on his pillow. Dave laid next to him, their faces inches apart and their warm breath mingling. Dave kissed Karkat softly and gave him a half-hearted grin.

“Tell me what's wrong, I'm all ears and ready to listen to whatever angst spills from your very soft lips. That was the gayest thing I've ever said by the way,” whispered Dave.

“It's just one of those nights where everything we've been through, everything that we've- that _I've_ done just won't leave me the fuck alone,” Karkat said, closing his eyes. “I mean, here I am, mister team leader badass with a mostly-dead team. But they weren't just team members, they were friends.” He swallowed thickly. “And who knows what's going to happen next? Maybe this meteor is steering us into the worst thing we've faced. I just don't know.”

Dave searched Karkat's face. “I know you did everything you could for the others. What happened to them wasn't your fault. This bullshit game we're playing seems to make up the rules as it goes along, there's no way you could have guessed what would happen.”

“Still,” Karkat said, his jaw tightening, “It's impossible to shake the idea that this is all somehow my fucking fault.” His tone was bitter as another tear escaped his eye.

“That is one-hundred percent not true. But I know the feeling of not being able to stop your brain from spouting constant bullshit,” Dave said quietly. “It's a constant parade of self-loathing and guilt in here, like the universe's worst 4th of July extravaganza, except replace the fireworks with fucked-up memories,” he said, pointing at his head.

Karkat's frown deepened as he glanced at Dave's arm. Dave felt his chest clench painfully as he hurried to put his arm back down, but Karkat grabbed him gently before he could.

“Scars?” he asked, bringing Dave's arm between them forearm-up as he inspected the criss-crossed lines that covered Dave's skin. Dave's hand shook but he didn't move as Karkat lightly traced the pale pink cuts and old white scars.

“Did your fucking bastard of a brother do this to you?” Karkat said, fire returning to his eyes as he looked at Dave.

Dave only shook his head, stomach churning. He took a deep breath and pulled his arm away, crossing his arms across his chest and not making eye contact.

“I did it. To myself,” he admitted.

“You hurt yourself on purpose?” asked Karkat slowly, watching Dave's pained expression.

“Yeah. I did.” His tone was clipped and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling Karkat's worry like a physical presence between them.

Karkat placed his hand on Dave's arm, sitting up and softly pulling Dave's arm onto his lap. Dave obliged with hesitation. He looked away as he felt Karkat's fingers rub across an older puckered scar that marred his wrist.

“I don't understand,” whispered Karkat, at a rare loss for words. “Why would you...” he trailed off as Dave looked at him, expression suddenly blank.

“It started when I was eleven. I tripped over one of my bro's fucking puppets and scraped my hand on a goddamn sword he had just left on the floor. What kind of fucking asshole leaves a sword on the floor with a kid in the house? I was pissed but my hand hurt worse. So I dragged my dumbass hand across the sword again.”

Karkat's eyes were wide as the words stumbled their way from Dave's mouth for the first time. He wasn't sure if it was because it was three in the morning, or if it was because Karkat had been upset and vulnerable as well, or if it was because he trusted him more than anyone else but the story poured itself out and Dave didn't try and stop it.

“After that, it was easy to pick up one of the hundreds of shitty swords laying around the apartment and just... hurt. Maybe to forget, maybe to distract myself from the hell I was very clearly in denial about, maybe to prove that I could hurt myself worse than that fucking bastard ever could.” His voice was shaking and he took a deep breath. “I have no goddamn clue. But after that, I never stopped. When I ran out of room on my arms, I went for my legs. Then my chest. Back to my arms when they were healed enough. And now I'm a fucking road map of bad choices and regrets.” Tears found their way down Dave's face as he stared at the ceiling, his arm still in Karkat's hands. “Oh shit, here I fucking go with the crying like a goddamn wuss,” he muttered, taking his arm from Karkat and rubbing his face.

Karkat was speechless. He had never seen Dave so upset and his chest ached. He laid back down and wrapped his arms around Dave, bringing him closer.

“Would it help if I asked you to stop,” he said.

“I haven't cut recently, not since this whole _adventure_ started,” Dave said. “I mean, I still think about it a lot but... I haven't.”

Karkat nodded, relieved. “I'm so fucking sorry Dave,” he muttered with his lips pressed against Dave's pale blond hair, not sure what else to say.

“I guess I'm just a product of a super fucked up childhood, that's not your fault,” Dave said. “You came here for me to reassure you, not to unlock my fucking tragic back story. Are you okay?” he asked.

“I'm... okay. I mean, everything is still super fucked but that's not what I'm going to lose sleep over,” Karkat said. Dave groaned.

“Don't you dare lose sleep over my sad emo-kid bullshit,” he said. “There are other, way more important things to worry about.”

“You are important.”

“Don't get sappy on me, dude.”

“You are important, asshole.”

Dave snorted. “That's better.”

Karkat held Dave a little tighter. “So I guess we're both fucked up in the think-pan, huh?”

“Yep. Welcome to my twisted fucking think-pan,” Dave said in a monotone.

“I can't even tell if that was a joke or not,” Karkat said.

“Life's a joke.”

“It sure fucking is.”

The two laid in silence, arms wrapped around each other, and though neither of them were really okay, the presence of the other was enough to ease them into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

 


End file.
